


Self Obsession

by minbins



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bottom Kim Junmyeon | Suho, DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS I DO NOT CONSENT TO REPOSTING, Junmyeon dreams about his alternate self from the Obsession MV - Freeform, Junmyeon is horny 4 Suhø's demonic traits, M/M, Self-cest, Top Suhø, destressing, dick piercing, essentially a very strange form of masturbation, i Do Not Know what else to tag this with lmao, is there a prize for strangely artsiest selfcest fic, lucid dreaming but make it horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: Suhø isn’t just a mirror, he’s an amalgamation of everything Junmyeon secretly wants, presented behind the illusion of his own face.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Kim Junmyeon | Suho
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	Self Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> uh,,

Junmyeon wakes— except, he doesn’t. He feels awake, sure, but he knows that he can’t be. This can only happen when he’s dreaming.

Suhø smiles as Junmyeon sees him across the room, standing by his door, leaning against the frame as if he’s waiting on some vampiric custom for an invitation. His hair is red, just as Junmyeon’s had been in the video, but there’s real horns there rather than artful styling. Somewhere along the line, for this is hardly the first time Junmyeon has had _this_ dream, he’s realised that Suhø’s demonic nature is part of the fantasy. His eyes shine crimson as he waits on Junmyeon’s cue, and veins of red light flash across his skin. “Come in.” When Junmyeon speaks, the tension snaps like thread pulled too taut, and Suhø crosses the room in seconds.

Junmyeon had fallen asleep in only his boxers, and thus is clad as such when Suhø pushes back the covers. “I’ve missed you,” Suhø says in some mockery of sweetness, lips already at Junmyeon’s neck, which arches to the touch. Suhø’s voice is deeper than Junmyeon’s ever is, gravelly like brimstone, and it sends shivers down Junmyeon’s spine. 

“I’ve been too tired to dream,” Junmyeon replies, indulging his imagination. This is just some thought-up facsimile of himself and he knows it, but it feels so good that he always plays along. It’s only masturbating, really, when it comes down to it. His own mind, being touched by hands that feel like his but colder somehow. He’d expected them to be hot, the first time they’d gripped at his bare thighs, when Junmyeon’s sex-starved mind had first cooked up this strange indulgence. Suhø is hellish, after all, but feels cold-blooded. His tongue is hot, though, flicking over Junmyeon’s neck to soothe bruises that’ll disappear when Junmyeon really awakes. He bites down, sharper teeth than Junmyeon’s, and Junmyeon moans, bucking up against the hand now resting over his crotch. 

“Not too tired for _this,_ I see,” Suhø remarks, and his derision makes Junmyeon blush more than he should. “What is it you want, hm?”

His mind knows exactly what he wants from Suhø, knows every one of his kinks that there’s no hiding from in a world of his own creation. And it’s masturbation, sure, but Junmyeon allows himself to forget that. “You,” he replies.

“Narcissistic, much?” Suhø replies, laughing lightly as he tugs Junmyeon’s boxers down to his thighs. He thumbs over the head of Junmyeon’s cock, already leaking and hard, and shrugs before pulling the boxers off completely. “We have reason to be, I suppose.” Junmyeon’s legs spread without complaint as Suhø reaches between his thighs, and the first careful prod of a finger reveals how desperate he is tonight. Often, he enjoys the feeling of Suhø slowly stretching him open, watching fingers that could be his own fucking into him bit by bit. Other nights, like tonight, Junmyeon imagines himself already prepped. It’s his mind, and so he _is._ As an imaginative touch, lube leaks from his stretched hole onto Suhø’s cold fingers. 

“Look,” Junmyeon smiles, and doesn’t feign innocence as he would with anyone else, anyone _real._ It’s been a while since he’s had anyone real, hence the fantasies his mind has been providing these past months. He doesn’t usually bottom, but he likes to with Suhø, since it’s pretty much him topping anyway, depending on how you look at it. 

“Oh, I’m looking,” Suhø replies, pushing two fingers in without care, knowing Junmyeon can take it, knowing he wants it. He pumps them lazily, watching Junmyeon clenching around him, before he adds the third, lube squelching obscenely around the digits as he fucks them into Junmyeon. “So fucking wet, aren’t you?”

Junmyeon whines. He gets more desperate by the second when Suhø talks to him like this. “Fuck me.”

Suhø rolls his eyes, but reaches for his open jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders. “You know,” he remarks, “I always wonder why you don’t just think me up naked from the get-go.” It’s a valid point, one Junmyeon has considered himself, so it must have transferred. “Is it because you have a thing for teasing, Junmyeon?”

It’s his own voice, deeper though it may be, and it shouldn’t turn Junmyeon on so much. Perhaps he does have some level of narcissism— he always comes pretty hard when he jerks off watching himself in the mirror. “Maybe…” he replies, elusive like they’re two separate people. It adds to it all, the fantasy more real when Junmyeon ignores that Suhø’s thoughts are his own. He watches with baited breath as Suhø pulls off his pants. This is Junmyeon’s favourite part, and perhaps the most twisted.

There’s metal glinting at the head of Suhø’s cock, all the pleasure without the pain Junmyeon is too scared of to get it done himself. He’s always thought that they’re hot, but getting a dick piercing as an idol is unwise too for a multitude of reasons, least of all the likelihood that it would somehow get out, plaster the pages of allkpop with _Exo’s Leader’s SORDID SECRET_ or other such drivel. Junmyeon’s mind indulges him, and gives the piercing to Suhø instead. It fits his character, the sexiest Junmyeon has ever felt in a music video, and fits the personality that he’s dreamt up for Suhø, too. “You always stare,” Suhø says.

“I’m just looking in the mirror,” Junmyeon replies. He’s hardly wrong. 

Suhø leans in, close enough to kiss him as his fingers find Junmyeon's hole once more and play with it idly, pushing lube back into him where it drips out obscenely. The noise should be gross, but Junmyeon likes it. “Can a mirror fuck you like me?” 

“In my _dreams,_ yes.” Junmyeon retorts, then hisses from a sharp burst of pain as Suhø bites his lower lip before he moves away. Sometimes, when he wakes up, he looks in the mirror and wishes he could see his lips as kiss-bruised and swollen as they are while he’s asleep. It’s not that he wants to _date himself,_ but he rather likes the sight of himself all bruised up and pretty— something he definitely isn’t allowed to pursue in reality as an idol.

“I’m not a mirror right now, am I?” Suhø says, caging Junmyeon in just how he likes, pushing him down onto the bed. He pulls his hand away, and Junmyeon feels empty and aching, left whimpering. Helpless. Just how he likes it, at least with Suhø. _“Am_ I?” Suhø repeats, and that gravelly voice grows deeper. Junmyeon’s cock leaks onto his already sticky stomach, and he shakes his head. Suhø isn’t just a mirror, he’s an amalgamation of everything Junmyeon secretly wants, presented behind the illusion of his own face. 

“You’re not.” Junmyeon loves to get lost in it like this. “Fuck me, _please,_ hyung.” ‘Hyung’ feels more fitting for their dynamic, and less weird than moaning his own stage name. The thought itself is hypocritical, really, for there’s no part of wanting to be fucked by his own cock that isn’t more than slightly weird. 

Suhø pulls Junmyeon up and into his lap, chest pressed to Junmyeon’s back and his thick cock slipping through the cleft of his ass. The slide is wet with lube Junmyeon doesn’t remember Suhø slicking himself up with. Not that dreams make sense— he forgets that, sometimes, because Suhø just feels so _real._ He feels the piercing against his skin, chilling cold in a way Junmyeon knows a real cock piercing likely wouldn’t be. All he knows of them is from online forums, as he fantasises about finding a celebrity piercer discreet enough that he could get away with it. When Junmyeon lets himself think like that, he even goes so far as to come up with solutions should word get out he’d been there— he considers getting a nose ring to pull the attention away, because metal through the head of his cock isn’t the first place most minds would stray to. He's scared of how much it would hurt, but idly daydreams about it just the same. 

Right now, he has Suhø to fulfil that fantasy. That and many, _many_ others. Junmyeon feels the piercing drag over his rim, and moans so loudly that he worries it might carry over into his _actual_ voice. They’re in a hotel tonight, though this dreamstate more resembles his room back at his apartment, and he’s sharing his room with Baekhyun. He hopes he won’t have to deal with the consequences of audibly having a wet dream when he returns to reality. 

From behind him, Suhø’s hand wraps around Junmyeon’s neck, jolting him back into the dreamstate fully. Junmyeon wants immersion, and his mind is providing in full. It’s not that Suhø is choking Junmyeon, not really— he’s just quietly asserting his dominance, reminding Junmyeon that he _could._ Claws scratch lightly over his skin, sharp enough to do damage but leaving him unharmed, and Junmyeon shivers. The clawed fingers draw away from Junmyeon’s neck, both of Suhø’s rough hands moving to Junmyeon’s waist and gripping hard enough to bruise. _“Fuck me,”_ Junmyeon chokes out, urging his mind to hurry up, because if he’s shaken awake before he gets to have this he’s going to be in a bad mood all day.

Suhø’s stronger than Junmyeon could ever hope to be, and it’s without even exerting himself that he gives in and hooks his hands under Junmyeon’s shaking thighs. His cock feels burning hot and ice cold as the tip presses against Junmyeon’s dripping hole, imagination running wild with the amount of lube that’s apparently in his ass and making it messier. As Suhø guides Junmyeon down, he leaks all over his cock. _His_ cock. Even with the piercing to differentiate, it’s still strange every time in a way Junmyeon shouldn’t be into. It's like masturbating with one of those moulded dildos, except Junmyeon isn't the one to set the pace.

Well, he _is_ technically, but for now he slips into indulgence.

“Move already, hyung, please,” Junmyeon outright whines. He pleads with his own thoughts, which is so strange a concept that his mind should spin. Should, but doesn’t. Oddly, it feels logical right now, a clear sort of calmness to juxtapose his desperation. This is Junmyeon’s only form of stress relief, only having time to relax when he’s literally asleep due to their packed schedule as of late. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t question it, doesn’t delve into how fucking _weird_ this is. It gets him off, it clears his stress, and that’s enough as far as Junmyeon is concerned.

A manifestation of Junmyeon’s thoughts, Suhø can tell they’re running out of time. Junmyeon can feel it in his subconscious, that his alarm will be going off in the next ten minutes or so. Suhø only appears when Junmyeon is sleeping deepest, and it’s usually the early hours of the morning before he manages to reach that state. “Fine.” Suhø speaks close to Junmyeon, disinterested and alluring rolled into one, forked tongue flicking out to trace the shell of his ear. Junmyeon reaches up and behind him, feeling over one of the horns protruding from Suhø’s red hair. Suhø moans like it's some sort of pointy G-spot, and his hips twitch against Junmyeon's ass. The devil fantasy going so far is another thing that Junmyeon should probably confront himself about, but he can’t find the strength to care. Not now, when Suhø is finally moving, lifting and dropping Junmyeon down onto his cock like he’s nothing, again and again and _again._

Nothing.

It’s nice to not be in charge for once, nice to be _nothing,_ and it makes sense in a twisted way that Suhø is the only one Junmyeon would submit to. There’s something freeing in being worthless, in being used like a toy that Suhø is using to get himself off. Junmyeon is always _everything,_ always the one to turn to. Silently, he thanks his mind for giving him a chance to escape that, just for once. _Trust him to get philosophical at a time like this._

There’s suddenly a hand around his cock, jerking him in time with Suhø’s thrusts, and Junmyeon knows why. Distantly, though it won’t stay distant for long, something rings incessantly. _Their time is up._ Sharp teeth graze over Junmyeon’s neck, and that brimstone voice tells him to **_Come, Now,_** in an uncharacteristic display of mercy. Junmyeon arches against himself, speared on some demonic version of his own cock, and comes with a strangled cry all the way up his chest as his vision fades out of the temporary reality. 

————————————

The alarm grows louder, and _louder,_ until Junmyeon is pulled gasping into consciousness. There’s stickiness left in his boxers, and Baekhyun is smiling in an amused sort of fashion that Junmyeon knows can’t be good. He ignores it, wondering if Baekhyun will let him pretend. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, hyung,” Baekhyun replies, and Junmyeon lets himself hope for a foolish moment that perhaps that’ll be it. _As if._ “Sleep well?”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/scbaes)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/minbinnie)


End file.
